


Busking

by litsasecret



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Crack, Jail, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2010-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litsasecret/pseuds/litsasecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all Adam's fault, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Busking

**Author's Note:**

> Mpreg. Yeah, IDK either. I blame the Sims 3 and mods that let you knock up boy sims. Also my online bff. Posted mostly so I can crosspost to/advertise for [](http://house-of-glam.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**house_of_glam**](http://house-of-glam.dreamwidth.org/).

In Tommy's defense, it wasn't his fault.

He tried to settle comfortably on the hard metal bench on the edge of the cell, ignoring the amused and disgusted glares of everyone around him. He adjusted his shirt so the strip of skin it revealed every time he moved was covered again and waited for his turn to make a phone call.

It was all Adam's fault, really. He was the one who had said "Oh, no, baby, I've got a bass player lined up for this one. I don't want you on your feet this close to term. Something might happen to the baby, or to you! We can't have that." He'd given Tommy his earnest eyes and tucked Tommy into the pillow top king bed in their bedroom with the TV buttons and plenty of unsalted popcorn as a snack.

Tommy was not some stupid housewife made to pump out babies at Adam's whim.

The second he was sure Adam wasn't coming back, he'd rolled out of bed, borrowed some clothes, grabbed a guitar from the room that had used to be the guest room, and gotten into the minivan Adam had gotten when they'd confirmed the pregnancy.

He'd driven down to WeHo and set up on a street corner with his guitar, his guitar case, and a smile.

Fuck Adam and not wanting him to perform.

But busking is basically loitering and trespassing, and the police were called by some unamused prick, and that was why Tommy was here. In jail. Waiting for his phone call so he could get Adam to bail him out.

Some brave criminal decided to steal the other seat on the bench. Tommy closed his eyes. "Fuck you, Adam Lambert," he said, irritably. The criminal chuckled.

"That the baby daddy?" he asked.

Tommy opened an eye to glare at him. "_I'm_ the baby daddy, thank you."

The criminal held up his hands. "No offense meant, man. I ain't got a problem with you, okay? Do you need, like, ice cream, or your feet rubbed? I can swing that."

Tommy opened his other eye to glare some more.

"My girlfriend just had a baby last month. I'm good at foot rubs," he enticed.

Apparently pregnant people were terrifying to this man. Tommy had no idea why, nor did he care to figure it out.

"Fuck off," he said succinctly, and adjusted again, tugging the shirt down again, and groaning a little when he realized a bolt was digging into his hip.

"Ratliff," the guard called, sounding bored. Tommy heaved himself to his feet and walked over to the cell door. The guard's eyes widened and Tommy scowled at him.

"Local calls only, and make it quick. Everyone else wants their turn."

Tommy dialed the familiar number. Adam picked up right away. "Hello? Please, God, tell me you've found him. I know it hasn't been 48 hours but he wouldn't have just wandered off like that, I promise!"

Tommy winced. "Hello."

"Tommy? Baby? Please tell me you're all right. God, I was so worried. Are you hurt? Did someone kidnap you and try to induce labor so they could sell our baby on the black market and she'll grow up on an organ farm?"

"Adam, I uh... needyoutocomepostbail."

Adam was silent on the other end.

"I'm sorry," Tommy said, feeling all kinds of shitty, especially since he'd _known_ that Adam would come up with all kinds of crazy scenarios, because Adam was paranoid and overprotective like that.

"Where?" Adam asked finally.

"West Hollywood. I-- uh..." he trailed off.

The line clicked off, and Tommy handed the phone back to the officer. He felt kind of blank and used up and incredibly selfish.

He sat back down on the bench in the cell, didn't bother fixing his shirt. He let his head hit the concrete wall with a thud and ignored the criminal's fussing over him. He'd much preferred the disgusted silence and pointed ignoring from the other cellmates.

This guy was acting way too much like Adam would, and it made Tommy's head hurt, and his chest.

It was only a few more seconds before he was crying outright, big warm tears streaming down his face. He hated this part of pregnancy, where everything made him feel either completely ecstatic or completely depressed, and there was no little about anything.

All he wanted was for Adam to come get him and hold him and rub his back where it hurt and make up even more stupid names for the baby who wouldn't even spread its legs long enough during a sonogram so they could finally know what colors to do up the nursery in.

He'd told Adam to just go for the sparkly pink and unicorns like he'd been saying for months he'd want for a daughter, because fuck gender roles and wasn't that Adam's whole mission, and Adam had just shook his head and said no, they'd wait and see.

Now maybe Adam didn't want him anymore because he was so fucking much trouble to handle and would only want to see their baby on holidays and send him exorbitant amounts of money to raise it himself.

And he'd never get to play with Adam's band again, and that had been the best gig ever, and _why_ did he have to go busking when Adam had told him to stay in bed?

The criminal put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not so bad, probably. It'll be okay," Tommy got him in the solar plexus with an elbow.

He shot the guy a telling glare from under his bangs and finally, _finally,_ the guy went to another part of the cell.

Almost an hour had passed by the time Adam arrived. Tommy had worked himself out of his misery and back up to quiet fury when the guard finally unlocked the cell door and Adam was on the other side.

Tommy stomped out of the cell and ignored Adam's murmured "Are you okay?" in favor of showing off his righteous indignation.

It _was_ Adam's fault, after all.

Tommy had to sign a bunch of paperwork still, and then collect his stuff from the lockup behind the desk, his guitar still loose from its case and one of Adam's leather jackets all crumpled over it.

He shrugged into the jacket, because even L.A. gets cold in January, and quickly zipped the guitar into its case even though he really wanted to check it over for damage.

They got into the Mustang in silence, and when Adam reached for the stereo, Tommy slapped his hand away.

"Hey!" Adam protested. "I just spent a thousand bucks getting your skinny ass out of jail. The least you can do is let me listen to the radio in my own car."

That was the thing about Adam. Even when he was mad, he found ways to compliment the people around him. Tommy flushed dark, cycling back into embarrassed.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."

Adam let out a gusty breath, then he reached across to wrap a warm hand around Tommy's thigh.

"Don't worry about it, baby. I'll draw you a hot bath when we get home and this time, I'll get into bed with you so you don't have an excuse to leave it."

Tommy nodded and sank back into his seat.

  
Later that evening, after Tommy had explained all of his emotions and feelings and shit, with Adam coaxing it all out of him with hurt, puppy-dog eyes and soft words, they were laying in their bed together, Tommy eating ice cream straight from the container and blessing whatever god had invented soy ice cream because his baby didn't like him eating dairy.

Adam was flipping channels when E! demanded his attention. Tommy shifted to glare at him, because he _hated_ celebrity gossip, especially since he now counted as a celebrity, being knocked up by Adam Lambert and all.

But the story was about him.

_"Rumors are flying after heavily pregnant celebrity squeeze Tommy Ratliff was spotted busking on a street corner in WeHo today. Has there been a falling out between the lovers? What will become of the baby? Sources close to the couple have declined to comment, but E! has exclusive footage, and we're asking our viewers to decide."_

Adam wrapped him up close and kissed his hair. "I'm glad you broke up with me and became a street bum. It's so much more sellable than being kidnapped by organ harvesters."

Tommy couldn't help but laugh.


End file.
